Page 54 of A Rescue by the Rakish Duke
He had been with several women before, but he had never felt like he did with Gwendoline. There was physical pleasure, of course, but there was something else. The moment he wasabout to take her maidenhead, he was concerned more about her comfort, not his wants. He was never a brute with women, but he knew that the women he had taken to his bed could take anything.
Contrary to popular belief, he was more disciplined than people thought. He avoided women at high risk of diseases and made arrangements with some of them for a time. He used French letters and vinegar washes.
It was never a pleasant affair.
He scrunched up his face when he thought of Lord Edelwood, who had come down with various ailments. At least, that was what the gossips said. Damian knew better than to trust Edelwood, but he also knew that the man was likely to catch a disease from the women he cavorted with.
Fallen women of the ton. Secret rebels.
He couldn’t help but wince at the dangerous way he had behaved before marrying the beautiful woman beside him. He was relieved he didn’t have to concern himself with other women again.
Gwendoline might be strong, but she was not like those women. She had been sheltered so that she would be more attractive when dangled over lecherous bastards whose only virtues in life were money and titles. Some didn’t even have either.
Damian’s cock twitched when he remembered how his wife had taken him well. He remembered seeing proof of her innocence on his length. Pride bloomed in his chest at the thought that he was the first to show her the pleasures of making love.
Love? Huh. Perhaps she was the first to make him reconsider the word. Lust was a more familiar feeling when he used to roll from one bed to another.
Mine. She’s all mine.
With his innocent wife cocooned in his embrace, Damian felt as peaceful as ever. Unfortunately, his peace was short-lived.
The door creaked open, and for once in his life, he couldn’t react as quickly as he would have liked.
“Good morning, lovebirds!” Evan greeted in a voice that could startle the dead.
His hair was still sticking at odd angles after a possibly restless night in God knew what kind of chamber. He even gave a sunny, knowing smile that grated on Damian’s nerves.
Yes, Damian was annoyed, but he was also surprised that he wasn’t furious. He quickly pulled a blanket over Gwendoline and shot Evan his best scowl.
“Get out, Drake!”
“I see the storm wasn’t the only thing that was raging,” Evan teased, grinning widely. “I was right to take another room.”
Damian grabbed a cushion and hurled it at his man, wondering when he had ever allowed such disrespect.
The door closed with a discreet click, contrasting with Evan’s laughter in the hallway.
“Get dressed!”
Damian shook his head in disbelief and rested his head back on the rug. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was cozy because of the fire in the hearth and the heat of the woman beside him.
And the woman? She was now fully awake.
Damian turned his full attention to his wife, who was trying to muffle her laughter under the blanket. Her shoulders shook with mirth. He had never seen her eyes dance like they did at that moment, and he felt a pang of regret for the times he had rejected even her friendship.
He was a fool.
“You find this amusing, huh, Gwendoline?” he asked gruffly, but he couldn’t help but smile.
He had never had much use for those muscles in his cheeks for a long time—until she came along. To his credit, Evan had made life easier with his sunny disposition and crude jests, but they didn’t compare to what Gwendoline was doing to him.
Something passed over her face when he uttered her name, but she quickly schooled her features. He felt disappointed at how she quickly disguised her feelings. Was that what she had been doing all along?
“A little,” she admitted, a slow smile spreading across her face.
Damian didn’t know what he would do if she had woken up regretting everything that transpired between them.
“Oh, you’re going to get it next, wife,” he whispered playfully in her ear.
